Through the Darkness of Futures Past
by Nike Athena
Summary: The reactions of 15 year old Lambo's disappearances.


**Through the Darkness of Futures Past**

**Author's Notes and Miscellany:** Just me wondering how people reacted to 15 year old Lambo's disappearance in his time. Be wary, it's kind of graphic. There may be a part two to this.

* * *

After a while, the Bovino family got used to Lambo's disappearances. They all remembered what Lambo was like when he was just a little snotwad, running around, and causing mischief, and generally being an annoying, adorable little bastard. So that's why they didn't react to Lambo's disappearances at all anymore.

When the tall, handsome, lanky boy disappeared in a cloud of gun smoke, of course anybody present was startled. But when a small, crying, rather homely child was left in Lambo's place, there would be a sigh, and everyone would relax.

Like, for instance, when Lambo's "big brother", and a couple of body-guards had decided the little café on the corner would be a nice place to stop and relax after a full day of fucking shit up. Lambo had ordered his usual double-shot espresso with cream and sugar, and was just being mocked for having such girly tastes while he sipped it, when he was suddenly encompassed in a cloud of gun smoke, with a loud bang. Vinnie and the toughs sat frozen, wondering if Lambo's explosives had finally gone off, or if some asshole had just assassinated the kid, when their answer was provided.

The smoke cleared, and, sitting well below table level, was little Lambo, crying desperately in the way only little kids (and, well, Lambo) did really well. The kind where a couple of huge sobs would come out, and then a huge gasp, and then a wail that dissolved into more sobbing. For a few seconds, all Vinnie and his buddies could do was stare, before they finally regained their speaking facilities.

"Uh… hey, Vinnie. That's Lambo, ain't it?"

"Yeah. 'S Lambo." A few beats of silence, then,

"Um, maybe we should do somethin'. Y'know." They were getting weird looks from the other café-goers, which pissed Vinnie off. And the little tyke was crying if anything harder now, and though Vinnie would never, ever admit it, it was hard seeing a kid cry like that. Vinnie wasn't such a heartless bastard that he kicked puppies and laughed, or watched kids cry and got a rise out of it. Especially not when it was Lambo. No, Vinnie was a pretty good guy.

And being such a nice guy, he went around to Lambo's side of the table, picked him up and sat back down in the booth. He jogged the kid a bit, wiping away snot and tears with his handkerchief, and fed him a bit of the left-behind espresso; that calmed baby Lambo down a bit, enough so that he was relaxing against Vinnie's chest and hiccupping and giving big, exhausted sighs. It was only a couple minutes later that Lambo was laughing and being annoying (god, he'd forgotten how annoying Lambo could be), when there was the telltale puff of smoke and the bang.

Lambo reappeared, all lanky body and good looks; but his clothes were fucked up and he was crying again, while some unidentifiable, but obviously poisonous, substance stuck on his face, dribbling from his nose and mouth. It was much harder to hold and comfort a fifteen year old, especially when they were sitting on your lap, and especially when they were choking and vomiting and passing out all over you.

Vinnie used the same handkerchief to wipe away the purplish-red gunk (what the hell _was_ this stuff) and tears that were pouring down Lambo's face, trying to get him to calm down, and hold him up while he clung to Vinnie's shirt, fainting.

That was a typical disappearance. Sometimes, Lambo would come back missing articles of clothes, holding bits of food he hadn't disappeared with, or other, equally random things. But sometimes, it was much more frightening.

Like the time Lambo had been happily eating a meal of spaghetti (with entirely too much cheese on it, as a dinner mate pointed out) when he disappeared, replaced by a five-year-old Lambo, who was scared so badly he was crying silently and shivering, his jaw locked. He ran immediately to the lap of the nearest adult and huddled against their chest. As the Bovino family members present at the dinner tried to figure out what had scared the child so badly, the boy disappeared, replaced by the Lambo appropriate to that time-space continuum.

Immediately, Lambo, pressed into Vincento's chest, started to howl, and it was easily recognized why; his body was so riddled with bullet holes that it was hard to see an unwounded spot on the boy. Blood was pouring from practically every orifice of his body as he choked in pain and clawed at himself; Vincento, was forced to lower the boy to the ground, lest he injure himself more seriously.

Later, they learned little Lambo had gotten involved in one of the 10th Vongola's accidental escapades, which dealt far too much with the Japanese Yakuza than comfort allowed.

Of course, he rarely was able to remember when it was going to happen, except the strange sensations of déjà vu he would occasionally get before he popped out of existence. Other than that, he was just as surprised as everyone else when he reappeared, more often than not crying.


End file.
